When You Were Young
by SarahCullen17
Summary: He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman, like you imagined when you were young. A songfic for the song by the Killers. Because even the strong struggle with convictions, beliefs, and the road less traveled.


**Read this first!**

**This is not a story that hates on religion. I've been baptized, and I've grown up in a Baptist church. While I've grown increasingly NOT devout, I still have the utmost respect for the church.**

**People just don't often get to hear about the inner struggles of church kids. My own struggles with faith are what inspired this.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns it, not SC. The Killers own "When You Were Young"...and I wish I owned Brandon Flowers.  
**

**

* * *

**

**"When You Were Young"  
a one-shot in Alice's POV**

You sit there in your heartache.

My father is a pastor.

What a depressing way to start a story, right? I suppose that ministering is a good career choice if you like public speaking and lots of reading. And if you want to raise your children in a conservative, always safe manner. Nightly prayer meetings, saying grace before dinner, making your children memorize Bible verses…yeah, that's good…if that's your thing.

I'm a well-behaved child by all standards, I suppose. Straight A's, sober, a virgin. The closest I've ever come to breaking any of these was a heated makeout session with my safe, pure, respectable boyfriend Edward Masen. I've never tasted alcohol and never inhaled anything I shouldn't.

But I'm restless.

I've never really tasted the world, either. I live in a safe little bubble with G-rated movies and modest dresses. The most trouble I've ever gotten in was shouting the word "Jesus" while I accidentally ran over our mailbox. The mailbox was fine, the car was fine, _I _was fine, but apparently my soul was blackened. The second worst punishment I've ever received was when I cut my hair into short, choppy spikes. I thought (well, I still think) it's beautiful, but my mom said it was "masculine" and "gender-perplexing" like "that Katy Perry girl." I didn't bother mentioning that Katy Perry is feminine and beautiful. I knew what my mom was referring to: her rather excellent song "I Kissed a Girl." Katy, Gaga, Britney, and Rihanna are all blacklisted at my house and in my church.

Life isn't easy when you're a PK. Sure, you get a lot of gifts for your birthday because it is announced in the pulpit, but how many Steven Curtis Chapman CDs can you collect? I want out. I want to go a dangerous place and do something sinful. I indulge in a little sin every now and then: a curse word here and there, the pair of low-rise jeans I hide in my drawer, cheating on a test if I don't feel like studying, but it just isn't enough to satisfy my teenage longing for rebellion. At eighteen years of age, I _need_ a little sin.

I reflect on this as I sing in the choir, my hideous red robe hiding any trace of the figure I've worked so hard for. Call it anorexia, but I call it religious fasting. That's my excuse, at least. My parents are so proud when I lie and say that I'm fasting as a prayer tactic for my school. Really, I'm just getting my body ready for college. You can't be fat if you plan on a little temptation and fornication.

_"Prone to wonder, Lord I feel it," _the choir sings. I'm mouthing the lyrics. I may be a sinner—bordering on a Satanist, as my parents would say—but I'm not going to lie to God. _"Prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."_

Waiting on some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways. You play forgiveness, watch it now, here he comes.

While I'm pretending to sing, I look at the congregation. I know every face…well, until a very stunning face captures my eye.

The boy is about my age, with blond curls cut short and an angular face. I can see a scar on his cheek—it almost looks like he was in a knife fight or something nefarious like that. He is standing against the back wall of the balcony. He is dressed surprisingly casual, in black jeans and a black Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt. I suppose the shirt isn't surprising, since we are in Mississippi, but wearing a blatantly secular shirt like that in a house of worship is extremely surprising. I love Skynyrd; it's another secret sin I have. This boy is gorgeous, and he's staring at _me_.

The old hymn ends, and the congregation claps politely even though I know we sound like a bunch of old fogeys. I have a beautiful voice and am often the soloist, but today we didn't have any solos. The choir director—my mother-flashes us the "okay" sign before silently dismissing us. I'm short, so I'm always in the front row. I follow the old widow in front of me and go to the choir room to hang my robe up.

"Alice," Mom says as she takes her robe off. "You weren't singing today. You were blessed with a heavenly voice. Why don't you want to honor God with your talents?"

"My throat is killing me," I lie, and a boom of thunder suddenly sounds from outside. I almost shiver at the irony of that._ Lying in the house of God..._

"Oh, are you getting sick?" she asks me, putting a hand to my forehead. "You don't feel hot."

"It's probably just sinuses," I say, hanging my robe and attaching my little nametag to it. "Can I sit with the youth group today?"

She raises an eyebrow. "You know we prefer you to sit on the front row with the family."

"I know," I reply, "but I sat with you guys last week."

Mom sighs, getting ready to argue with me. Luckily, she is interrupted by Mrs. Weber, who calls, "Esme! What should I bring to the potluck?" so Mom just nods and says, "Go sit with your friends."

The youth group normally sits in the balcony, where the guy was standing. I slip up the stairs and see him still standing there. He notices me out of the corner of his eye and turns to stare at me. He has a wicked smirk on his face.

"Alice!" Edward loudly whispers. "Come sit by me!"

Little Bella Swan looks devastated as she sees him motion to the spot by him. She has had a crush on Edward since our vacation Bible school days, but he was always interested in me.

However, I'm more interested in this stranger.

My father is ruffling through his notes on his podium, giving the typical welcome. I quickly dart to the pew behind the youth group and take a seat. Dad smiles up at me, his blond hair shining in the lights. I force a smile back and look behind me for the guy.

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman, like you imagined when you were young.

To my intense surprise, he is coming to sit by me. I stiffen as he takes a seat, still giving me that smirk, our arms touching. "Howdy," he says softly in a Texan accent.

He has blue eyes. They blaze as they stare at me. I've never seen anything more beautiful or intriguing.

Being from the South, I probably visibly melt at his accent. "Hey," I reply back, opening my Bible and my sermon notebook.

"Are you Pastor Cullen's daughter?" he whispers.

I nod, noticing that Edward is shooting daggers at the guy. "I'm Alice."

"Jasper Whitlock. Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He extends a hand.

Okay, he's also chivalrous. This guy could perhaps be my dream boy. I shake his hand gingerly and turn my attention back to my dad. He's praying. _Whoops, my bad… _I bow my head, squinting my eyes.

Jasper, however, doesn't seem to care. He nudges me, takes my notebook, and scribbles a note: _You're really pretty. Love the short hair.  
_

I blush deeply, wondering if Edward can read this note from his spot in front of me. _**Thank you**, _I scrawl back, adding a smiley face on the end. Edward had seemed to agree with my mom about the hair.

_Are you interested in lunch after church?_

I am, but I know it's impossible. I always have to eat with my family. Dad usually takes the new members of our church out to lunch to get to know them better. Plus, considering I don't eat, that could be a problem. I write back: **_Sorry, can't. Maybe sometime later?_**

He smirks at me. _Have a hot date?_

I blush again. **_No...PK duties._**

_PK?_

**_Preacher's kid._**

_That must suck._

I shrug. He grins at me, turning his face toward the front. Dad is already preaching. Edward is pouting, and Bella is eying him. _Well, good for her,_ I think.

I want to talk to Jasper more. There is just something about him...

_**You know, you have a lot of nerve wearing that in a Baptist church on a Sunday morning.**_

He raises an eyebrow at me. _Gee, thanks. Are you saying you don't like Skynyrd? And I don't have church clothes. I haven't been to church in years._

_**Skynyrd is great. Why have you started going to church again?**_

He sighs and starts to scribble. Finally, he hands the slip of paper to me. _My dad just married some Bible beater and we just moved from Texas. She thinks we all should go to church as a family. _His gorgeous blue eyes look so sad._  
_

Interesting. I write back: _**Well, you've come to a good place.**_

___Do you really mean that? Or is it more PK duties?_

Ah, the moment of truth. I sigh. _**Well...it's a good church...but I'm not as committed as, say, Edward over there.**_

_Is Edward the prick with the funky hair?_

_**Yes.**_

_He hates me already._

I fight a smile. _**Right.**_

_So, a PK who can't commit. Isn't that a little...strange?_

I snort unkindly. _**Sin is fun for everyone.**_

_True, very true. What do you know of sin?_

I give him an unbelieving glance. Everyone is a sinner. We are born sinners. Every human being knows of sin. **_Enough to know that I'm not deserving of grace._**

The expression on his face is of pure amusement. He chuckles harshly and quickly scrawls, _Meet me by the bathrooms._

And then he stands up and leaves.

I glance down to the pulpit. Dad is giving me a questioning look. Knowing that it will look suspicious if I immediately get up and leave, I wait for a full ten minutes. Finally, Dad is really into his sermon, getting loud. Edward glares at me as I silently slide out of my pew and tiptoe down the stairs.

Jasper is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking unbelievably dangerous and sexy.

Can we climb this mountain? I don't know...higher now than ever before. I know we can make it if we take it slow. Let's take it easy, easy now, watch it go.

"Eat lunch with me," he says simply.

I sigh, self-consciously crossing my arms over my belly. I always do this whenever food is being discussed. "I really can't."

"You really can't, or you really won't?"

I glare at him. "I really _can't._" _And I really won't eat..._

"So you're not much of a sinner," he taunts me. "You won't even defy your father?"

I huff, standing up straighter. "Of course I will. Maybe I just don't want to." Deciding to be even bolder, I add, "Maybe I don't want to do anything with _you_."

He snorts. "Maybe you're scared."

"Maybe you're being a jerk."

He laughs. "Good insult, Sister Alice. What if I told you I have a supply of beer and I know _exactly_ how to make a girl happy?"

My Christian training is telling me to run. My Sunday School teachers throughout the years would all say the exact same thing: _This guy is bad news. He drinks, and he wants to have sex with you. Run._

But his promises sound so _good_. They sound like...the real world.

But I'm still flirting with him. "What if I told you I don't believe you?"

He laughs again before taking a step toward me. Ever so gently, he cups my shoulders in his large hands and pulls me closer. I know what he is about to do, and I feel a little guilty. I am in a relationship with Edward, after all. But Jasper Whitlock is just so darn handsome and charming and _dangerous_...and those blue eyes...

By the time he softly touches his lips to mine, I'm all too willing.

We kiss in the atrium of the church for a few minutes. I feel shocked, and then pleasantly surprised, and then I feel _good_. But I can hear my father's voice echo throughout the church.

He would be so disappointed.

You aren't supposed to kiss boys in the church. Everyone knows that. My cheeks burning bright red, I pull away. "I really need to get back in there."

He pulls me back and warmly runs his tongue along my lips. "Just think about it."

He isn't making this easy. I sound whiny as I say, "Are you coming back with me?"

He shakes his head. "Naw. I'll be waiting for you."

And his eyes look so confident I really can't resist.

They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet.

But I sigh as I fulfill yet another PK duty. PKs have to be present for every service possible.

Somehow, Dad's sermon is perfect for today. It's all about hellfire and brimstone, and how sin can look so tempting. Proverbs 6:25 is his central verse: "Do not lust in your heart after their beauty or let them captivate you with their eyes."

_Eyes_. God...I'm already lusting in my heart.

True to his word, Jasper is still waiting by the bathrooms when the congregation is dismissed. I try to nonchalantly walk toward him, but my dad catches my shoulder.

"Alice," he says softly, his eyes looking nervous. "Did you leave the service with that boy?"

"No, sir," I lie. "I'm not feeling well, and I went to get a drink of water."

I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he isn't about to make a scene at the church. He gives me that _You'll-Be-in-Trouble-Later _look, and then visibly softens. Always keeping up appearances for the lowly sinners. "Sweetie, we're eating with Edward's family today. Why don't you go pick up your brother from the nursery so we can leave?"

I sigh. "Yes, sir." I really don't want to hang out with Edward. He'll just pout at me for sitting with Jasper.

I turn on my heel and walk toward the nursery. As I'm walking down the stairs, I hear Jasper running to catch up with me.

"Come on, Alice," he says quietly. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," I reply curtly.

"You ain't gonna be young forever, darling. Live a little. Don't you want to splash in a little fun?"

I keep walking, talking lowly as he rushes to stay beside me. "You have bad intentions. I can see that."

"Define _bad_."

I say nothing.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Bad isn't bad. Bad can be_ good_. You just have to trust me, darlin'. Look, I can see how skinny you are. Something is telling me that religion isn't offering you everything."

I make the mistake of looking into his eyes. They're deep, smoldering, exploding like fireworks.

"Please, love?" he begs.

You don't have to drink right now...

I sigh and turn around, any good Christian will defeated already. "Stay here."

My dad is still in the atrium, talking to the Stanleys. I go and stand by him, staying quiet and polite. He gives them a warm goodbye and turns to me. "Where's your baby brother?"

"Daddy, I want to go have lunch with the new kid," I state. "He's new to Mississippi and I think it would be cool to have an addition to our youth group."

Dad's soft, handsome face cringes. "Alice, I don't like the looks of him. Maybe you should just invite him to youth group tonight."

"No, Dad. I want to go."

Dad shakes his head before looking behind me, eyes wide. I turn and see Jasper there, standing against the wall in that nonchalant way he has down pat. He's watching me intently.

"No," Dad says. "Definitely not."

I sigh. Jasper does look...rough...but in a very good way. I turn and walk to Jasper to tell him I can't.

"Really, Alice," he hisses, beautiful eyes still burning. "Please? Just stand up for yourself."

"What are your intentions with me?" I whisper.

He raises an eyebrow in that cocky way. "You really want to know?"

I nod once, eyes narrowed.

"Lunch...get in my car...get in the backseat...use your imagination. And then maybe we'll fall in love," he adds comically.

I know I should be appalled by his teasing-yet-serious expression, but instead, I'm just tempted further. I know I should run. I know!

But there's something about him.

Jasper is the epitome of the world, and I need a taste of the world.

I look behind me and see Dad watching us closely. Edward's family is gathered around him, waiting to go out to eat.

I know what Dad expects me to do. I know what I _should_ do.

But I need temptation. I need sin. I need to _live_.

I won't be young forever.

And God forgives.

But you can dip your feet every once in a little while.

I take Jasper's hand and lead him outside. I can hear my dad's footsteps pounding behind me as he follows us.

It is pouring with rain outside. Still grasping Jasper's firm hand, I run across the parking lot, the rain soaking my white dress-it's probably now completely see-through. Somehow I don't mind. Jasper leads me to his car, a beat-up sedan. I can smell cigarettes and alcohol in it, but that only fuels the passion that is suddenly raging in me.

He gives me one exuberant kiss, tongue and all, before driving off. I see my dad, looking defeated, standing behind the car.

And I know that I'll be in trouble. I know that I will probably compromise my dream of leaving home for college.

If I ever go home.

But it's worth it.

I leave my church, my convictions, my knowledge, my overbearing family behind. I'm not sure where we're going, but I have a feeling that Jasper could possibly be my one-way ticket to Hell. Especially when he starts to stroke my thigh under my dress.

But every church child knows that God forgives.

It looks like I'm going to be saying a lot of prayers tonight.

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman, like you imagined when you were young.

* * *

_If you liked it or hated it, leave a review. Honestly, this isn't my favorite, but it still means a lot to me._


End file.
